Fate: Avalon
by An escapist
Summary: One kept waiting for centuries, and the other kept pursuing an impossible dream. After a long time had passed for both of them, Shirou and Saber were finally reunited in Avalon. But is this the end of their story? Or is this the start of yet another chapter of their story together?
1. Chapter 1: Awakening

**Author's Note:**

Hello readers, I hope my summary was interesting enough to make you want to read this. I also hope the story doesn't let you down either. Just saying, readers are required to finish reading/watching the "last episode" of the Fate/Stay Night Realta Nua VN (and by extension the rest of the VN as well). If you have not, I highly recommend you to find a way to watch it. The feels it gives makes it very much worth the watch. Let me keep this short and sweet, so enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Awakening**

 _A tiny wish upon the stars._

 _Two lovers, one a king of knights, the other a hero of justice._

 _Two miracles, one waiting continuously, the other pursuing endlessly._

 _After many, many years of enduring patiently._

 _After a long, tiring journey to reach for the stars._

 _Then, when sleepy eyelids finally reopened._

 _Then, when blood resumed its flow through a heart of tin._

 _At the end of the dream._

" _I'm back, Saber."_

" _Yes-welcome back, Shirou."_

 _An embrace between those who were once a world apart._

 _A reunion of those whose love for the other remained unaffected by the difference in time and space._

 _That, is the ending of one story._

 _And, the beginning of another._

* * *

A magus in a tower far, far away smiled as he gazed at the couple. The lovebirds, reunited at long last. It was the least he could do, after all the suffering that Artoria experienced in her life. He was initially doubtful about their ability to perform what was required of them, but they did not disappoint him. After all, those two were inhuman in all ways but one. It was only expected of them to accomplish near-impossible feats for a tiny chance of meeting each other. Then, using much of the magical energy in the area, he helped to turn that possibility into reality. The girl before taking up the sword deserved to love and be loved, even if it did not happen during her lifetime.

However, there was still something that troubled him. The magical energy in Avalon was becoming increasingly chaotic. He was quite sure that it had nothing to do with him bringing Emiya Shirou into Avalon. He rarely made mistakes, and he was very confident that it wasn't one. No, it had to be from another source. Who might the culprit be? He wondered. And what is his goal? He decided to look further into the matter once the surrounding mana was replenished.

* * *

Elsewhere, another pair of eyes reopened. The girl got up from the barren ground that seemed to stretch endlessly into the horizon. Why had she awakened? She did not know. But she was surprised to find the magical energy around her in chaos. She barely managed to seize control of it, using it to detect the source of the irregularity. It took her a long time to understand the problem; the long slumber had caused her to go out of practice in the use of magic.

Each land recognised a king. The king ruled over the land; the land, and its resources, served the king. Avalon was no exception. Its magic served to protect and strengthen the king. To prepare the king for the day when she returned to lead Britain to true glory.

However, the problem lay in the fact that there were two kings. More specifically, two alternative forms of the same king. She did not know how that came about, but while they both slept, their usage of magical energy was minimised and the anomaly remained undetected. However, both of them were now awake. The land, and the magical energy it contained, had to serve one ruler. As both of them were technically the rightful king of the land, the contradiction was driving the magical energy into chaos and starting to tear the land apart.

She considered the options. One of the kings had to die. Naturally, it had to be the weaker king. The one less suited to lead Britain when the time came. That had to be the naïve, foolish Artoria. Who believed, simply because she saw some people smiling, that her rule would bring happiness to all the people of Britain. Who believed, in the last moments of her pitiful life, that she let her country down rather than the other way around, and tried to undo everything that happened during her rule by making a contract with the world to obtain the Holy Grail. All so she could abandon her duty as king.

The jet-black sword that was gripped tightly in her hand flared.

* * *

 **Author's Note 2:**

Firstly, before I get lynched, let me clarify that Saber Alter in this story (in case you haven't figured that out already) is not serving Angra Mainyu anymore. That means, although Saber Alter is still vastly different from her normal self in terms of her personality etc., she isn't trying to end the world either. She just wants to perform her duty as king (protecting Avalon and Britain).

By the way, I hope you liked this story. If you did, please do take the time to give some reviews on how to improve. It will help a lot, since this is my first uploaded piece of work. Till next time!


	2. Chapter 2: Home

**Author's Note:**

Hello readers, do forgive the title change. I know that titles should be locked in at the beginning of the stories, but I can't help but think that the previous title should be changed.

Apart from that, I need to inform you guys of my uploading schedule. Although I try my best to use the free time I have to write, I cannot guarantee even one chapter every 2 weeks (I hate school life). However, I will definitely try my utmost best to upload one chapter per month, at the very least. So, please be patient and stick with me on this.

Regarding correlation to the actual lore, I try to be as Typemoon-accurate as possible, but as with almost every fanfiction writer, I may make some inaccuracies, or even intentionally deviate away from the actual lore at certain points to continue the smooth flow of the story. Please overlook these things even if they stand out.

All right, it's time for the second chapter. Do post a review afterwards if you have any queries/feedback about my work!

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Home**

The forests that bordered the seemingly endless expanse of grassland. The green hills beyond that had surprisingly gentle slopes and were thus easy to climb. And even further were the steep cliffs overlooking the rough seas that surrounded the land. Saber was bringing Shirou to one place after another without rest. Granted, Shirou had become more fit than before, but it was still very tiring since Saber never seemed to run out of energy. He had already forgotten all that she said earlier, his mind slipping into a daze.

"So, how did you find these places?" Saber asked. The direct question snapped him out of the trance he was in.

"Ah… They were very nice." Shirou gave the vaguest answer he could, hoping that she did not notice his lack of attention over the past few hours.

"I hope you came to a decision where to build our home."

"Eh?" The confusion on his face was obvious.

"You mean you weren't paying attention? I'm disappointed, Shirou. I've always been wanting to show you this place, and now that I do, you don't even bother to listen." She chided.

"Sorry Saber, I'll pay attention this time." He gave her an apologetic smile.

"We'll keep walking until you start paying attention." She warned.

After an even longer period of time, they finally returned to where they were before, atop the vertical cliff. Saber turned to him. "So, have you come up with a decision yet?"

During the repeat of the trip, Shirou had observed her as she had talked about the locations. Noticing the nostalgic look on her face when she talked about the magnificent sea view from the cliff, Shirou wanted to confirm his guess. "Saber, was your hometown by the sea?"

"Yes. How did you know, Shirou?"

"Just a hunch. Saber, I've decided. We're going to live here. You've grown up by the sea, it's only fair that we live by the sea now."

"Yes, Shirou." The soft smile on her face as she gazed out at the sea lifted his spirits as well.

A brief moment passed in which neither of them spoke. However, Saber eventually broke the silence. Turning around to face him, she said, "Shirou. Build your house here."

His jaw dropped. "What?"

"Shirou, supply of magical energy is not a problem in Avalon. Furthermore, Avalon is on the Reverse Side of the World, which does not erase magical constructs that weren't originally from it. This is why all the Phantasmal Species came here when the Age of Man began."

"But why my home? It's too big for just the two of us. Wouldn't a smaller hut be more efficient?"

"Shirou, you said we should live by the sea because I spent my childhood years there. Using the same logic, shouldn't we be living in that house?"

He shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "All right, Saber. This might take a while, though. Please, wait." He closed his eyes and pictured the house he grew up in. "Trace, on."

 _Judging the concept of creation,_

 _hypothesising_ _the basic structure,_

During the time he spent lazing around his house when he was younger, he had examined, and became somewhat familiar with the structural layout of his house. By re-imagining it as a magical weapon, he was able to use his projection skills to recreate the altered house as best as he could.

 _duplicating the composition material,_

 _imitating the skill of its making,_

He gritted his teeth. The surrounding magical energy, in all its abundance, was surprisingly difficult to control. His urge to cry out in pain was only suppressed by the sheer amount of experience in projection he gained throughout the entirety of his life.

 _sympathising_ _with the experience of its growth,_

 _reproducing the accumulated years,_

 _excelling every manufacturing process-_

The overloading of his magic circuits signalled that he was close to completion. He couldn't lose focus now, not even due to the extreme pain he felt, not at this point-!

With a flash of light, the house he knew so well came into being in front of him. Standing at the entrance of the place he called home, he couldn't help but reminiscence about old memories, not only those during the Grail War, but also the ones before, with Taiga, Sakura and even Kiritsugu. Placing a hand against the wall to keep himself upright, he waited for himself to recover enough to be able to move on his own.

It came as a surprise to him when he felt a hand slip under his arm. "Seriously, Shirou, you should learn to rely on others." Supporting his weight on her smaller frame, she made her way into the house.

Entering the living room, she helped him to sit down. His head swam, and it was then that he realised he had nothing to rest on. Not even the tatami mat in his room, or the beds in other rooms. He had forgot to project the furniture the house contained along with the house itself. Although he knew that he could project them later, he knew he could collapse at any moment now.

Saber proposed an absurd solution. "Shirou, you need rest. Place your head on my lap."

"Wha-"

His feeble protests were ignored and he was too tired to resist. Saber rested his head on her thighs, ignoring both his and her embarrassment at the overly intimate situation they were in.

After a while, his weariness got to him, and he began to doze off. Before he wholly lost his consciousness, however, he heard and felt a loud rumble.

For an instant, he panicked, thinking that the house was disappearing or even collapsing on them. His eyes shot open, and when he glanced up at Saber, expecting her to be alarmed as well, he was confused when seeing her face flushed red and turned away from him.

At least, he was initially confused about it. When he heard the second, and even louder, rumble with the ear pressed against her stomach, he couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'll prepare a feast for you when I wake up, Saber." He was relieved when he saw her nod in agreement.

Drifting off into sleep again, he decided to keep the fact that the house he projected was a magical explosive hidden for the time being. He was the only one who could detonate the "weapon", after all.

* * *

Tracking herself was proving to be extremely easy. Although she travelled on foot, she used the magical energy around her to sustain the rapid pace she was constantly travelling in. Munching on a golden apple she picked from a tree she passed by, she considered the distance she needed to travel and was confident that it would be a mere matter of weeks before she caught up with herself.

However, there was still the matter of the large usage of magical energy that recently occurred where her weak self was. Did her counterpart realise her existence? And was she taking measures against her? She did not know. She would worry about it when she faced herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed several goblins peeking out at her behind rocks. When she stopped and fixed her hardened gaze on them, they were terrified and went back into hiding. She returned to walking, unperturbed by what had just happened. Her subjects feared her. Just like they always had, and just like they always would.

She had known the truth since she was young. The ideal king that her country needed so badly could not be human, nor possess human emotions. The king had to be different from everyone else. Just as the first knight who left said that she "did not understand human emotions", no one could understand her emotions either. Why then, should she try to seek the loyalty and devotion of subjects who could not understand her?

She had learnt the bitter lesson only after the battle of Camlann, when she was forced to slay many who were once her subjects. She witnessed personally their fear and hatred towards her, and although her weak self did not comprehend it then, she now saw it all too clearly.

Having been forced to abandon her human emotions to bring her countrymen a brief period of peace, she had become too different from the people she served. During that brief period of peace, however, the people turned their attention away from the invaders. They suddenly realised that they could not understand the king. Forgetting all that the king had done for them, fear and hate towards the king spawned from that lack of understanding. And so, her rule began to crumble.

But it was meant to be. As king, she was destined to be hated and ostracised due to being misunderstood by the very people she served. She only had to perform her duty as king, no matter what happened. A duty that persisted to this day since her rule had yet to end.

To save everyone by killing everyone. To protect the lands she ruled, both Britain and Avalon, by cutting down every foe with all her might.

Including, no, especially, her weak self.


	3. Chapter 3: The ideal knight

**Author's Note:**

After what I said last chapter, isn't it ironic that I would just upload this more than a month after chapter 2? I'm very sorry for the late upload, but still, enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 3: The ideal knight**

To call the forest vibrant was an understatement. It was buzzing with life, its various denizens already active despite it being early in the morning. Fairies flitted between trees, giggling while chasing each other. A herd of centaurs galloped by, heading towards the green plains beyond the forest. And there was a man with purple hair, trudging along in white and gold armor.

None of the creatures seemed to pay the man any attention. Perhaps they already knew who he was. Perhaps they treated him as one of them, him having been raised in this world.

The man stopped by a creek. Scooping up water in his hands, he drank. The refreshing taste of the creek water temporarily cleared his mind. But then, he stared at his reflection in the water surface and could not suppress a scornful laugh. The wretched complexion of the man staring back at him stood out in clear contrast to the idyllic green waters it was reflected in.

It was at these moments that he wondered whether he was even worthy to receive the mission he had. _Protect the king_. He laughed again. Why him? When he was the one who brought down the very king he vowed to serve, and the very kingdom he had sworn to protect?

He felt the familiar emotion of hatred well up in him. Hatred for the sins he had committed against his king and country. Hatred for the chaos he had brought to his country by his deeds, and the destruction of the kingdom that his king had sacrificed her humanity to create. Hatred for not receiving his due punishment for what he had done, that he had in his insanity mistakenly directed towards his king.

He buried his face in his hands. He had repeatedly attacked his king until being put down like the rabid dog he was. This was done in his madness, but it did not make the crime any less grievous. How much more injustice can he commit against his king?

It was all too easy for him to slip into insanity rather than constantly be faced with his mistakes. The Lady of the Lake, who had freed him from his madness, told him this. Right before she told him that his mad self had tried to kill his king.

As his king was still unlikely to punish him for what he had done, he decided to follow the Lady's recommendation of seeking atonement for his crimes in the present. Hence, he accepted her mission to serve and protect his king and her new lover.

He wondered how his king would react when she saw him. Would she arm herself, expecting him to attack her again? He also wondered how she would react when she learned about the other mission the Lady had given him.

His sore legs finally reminded him that he had been squatting in that position for a fairly long duration of time. He decided to stop wasting time dwelling on unnecessary matters. He was already close to his king's location, after all. There was no point in dallying. He would rather worry about such things when he actually found his king. Standing up, the knight continued on his journey.

* * *

The knight knocked thrice on the door, as any polite guest would. He could hear confused voices from inside the residence. He assumed the residents were wondering who their visitor was.

The voices stopped, and he heard footsteps. Someone was approaching the door. He steeled himself, preparing to face his king. From this moment on, he would begin on the path of atonement for the various sins he had committed during her reign.

When the doors opened, what greeted him instead was a beauty in a pale blue nightgown. Upon seeing each other, both froze.

"Lance…lot?" Her emerald green eyes widened in confusion. After a moment of staring at his shocked expression, her eyes softened and she gave him a warm smile. "You're here, too." Seeing her smile, his heart stopped beating for a second.

He knew the sweet, forbidden taste of that feeling all too well. It was the cause of the kingdom's downfall and his descent into madness. It was the cause of all his crimes against his king. And now, when he sought redemption for all his misdeeds, he was in its clutches once again.

Inside, he screamed at the sheer injustice of it all.


	4. Chapter 4: To the beach!

**Author's Note:**

I recently watched the first anime movie of Heaven's Feel (yes, it's out already) and there was an original scene within that was simply amazing. I will not spoil it here, but it made me rethink quite a lot about where this story is headed. But none of that is very relevant now, and this is just an excuse for releasing this chapter late, so please do enjoy the chapter below!

* * *

 **Chapter 4: To the beach!**

Shirou was sitting just before the cliff edge, enjoying the cool sea breeze that flattened his mop of red hair against his head. Sitting like this, with his arms hugging his legs, just staring out towards where the sky and sea met, had become his favourite pastime of late. The horizon was dyed a brilliant orange with a radiant sun framed right in the middle, forming a breath-taking view that made waking up early to catch the dawn in this undisturbed paradise worth the sacrifice in sleep made. He knew that this newfound source of joy would not last long, since as he became more familiar with the spectacular sights that Avalon had to offer, his amazement at them would diminish, but right now he planned to savour the new scenery and experiences as best he could.

Absorbed in his thoughts, he did not notice a familiar presence behind him. Until Saber rested a hand on his shoulder, that is. "Wha- oh. Good morning, Saber." He smiled at her, noticing her bleary eyes. _So that is how she's like when not acting as a servant_ , he mused.

"Good morning, Shirou." She sat beside him. "Were you unable to sleep?"

"No, I just woke up early. I wanted to watch the sunrise."

Saber nodded sagely. "This land is much like Britain in my time. The sunrises here are as spectacular as those in Britain then." There was a brief pause before she continued. "It's a shame that I can only describe Britain during my time with empty words. If only I could bring you there with me, to witness for yourself the beauty of Britain." He detected a wistful note in her voice.

"Well, you can always show me more places in Avalon." Shirou tried to comfort her, but was suddenly struck by an idea. He had caught sight of the beach under the cliff many a time while he was sky-gazing, with its golden sands and its many visitors that appeared as tiny dots from his height, and had often thought of asking Saber to go there with him. "Starting with the beach–"

Saber flicked his forehead. "You just wanted to see me in swimwear, don't you?"

His face turned red. "Uh…" How could he say that he hadn't thought that far ahead yet?

"Anyway," she continued. "I'll come with you, but please allow Lancelot to join us. He needs every opportunity to relax and enjoy himself."

Shirou considered the situation at home. Lancelot usually kept to himself, taking every opportunity to distance himself from them, often volunteering for chores like fetching water from the river and gathering food ingredients that took him away. He even insisted on sleeping in the other wing of the mansion, claiming that the couple needed their privacy. The only opportunity they had to interact with him was during mealtimes, but… it couldn't really be called interaction. Although he wolfed down his food with the same speed as Saber, he only took one serving of food every meal, promptly taking his leave after a polite but brief thanks.

Apparently, in Kiritsugu's Holy Grail War, Lancelot had been summoned as a Berserker. He had tried to kill Saber on many occasions, believing her to be the cause of his insanity. Saber had forgiven him for that, saying that he hadn't been himself at the time, and he was still her loyal and true friend. However, it seemed as though he hadn't forgiven himself yet.

Shirou made a decision. "All right then," he said. "He'll be coming too."

* * *

Persuading Lancelot was no easy task, but at Saber's insistence, Lancelot had no choice but to come along. At present, he was walking behind them, down the smooth, grassy but long slope that led all the way down to the beach.

Saber was trying her hardest to get Lancelot to talk. Reminiscing about old days, asking about what happened to him, the attention she showered on him almost made Shirou jealous. Looking at the self-hatred reflected in Lancelot's eyes, however, he was reminded of why Lancelot needed to come along with them. He really, really needed to let go of his past, and enjoying moments in the present was a good start.

A while more, and they finally arrived at their destination. The sands were apparently paler than they had seemed to be from his view atop the cliff, or the sun had lost its tinge of orange after dawn and reverted to its typical white colour. Either way, the beach was dazzlingly white, causing his eyes to squint in reflex. Saber was wide-eyed in wonder beside him, seemingly unaffected by the radiance of the sands. He did not know what Lancelot's reaction was, but he could guess that Lancelot was not unimpressed with the scene that lay before him.

"Let's go pick out our clothing first," he said. Receiving a nod from Saber, he began asking for directions. The other visitors at the beach were surprised at the appearance of humans, an extremely rare sight in this world, let alone at this place, but most of them tried to be as helpful as they could. Eventually, the party of three were directed to a building with an interior that reminded him of the shopping complexes in Shinto, stores of all kinds lined up uniformly beside walkways (he wondered how that came to be, since there shouldn't be much interaction between both sides of the world).

It wasn't long before he saw the first clothing store. But entering it and seeing the apparel offered, they faced a troubling issue. The clothing offered there was all tailored to fit the non-human visitors that frequented the beach. There were way-too-small clothing for fairies, and even clothing with an embarrassing hole at the back of the pants designed for centaurs' tails, but simply none that could fit, or were appropriate for the three of them.

They went to three other stores, facing the same problem, before the reality of the situation sank in. Outside the third store, Saber proposed something absurd. "Shirou, can you project swimsuits for us?"

 _What._ "Saber, I cannot project clothes, unless they are designed as weapons," he protested. "And besides," His face reddened. _How could he project well-fitting swimsuits for Saber without having knowledge of the sizes of different parts of her body?_

"My king, Emiya Shirou," Lancelot interrupted. "There is a store over there that says it sells custom-made clothes."

They followed his gaze, and found the shop he was referring to. It was much smaller compared to the other clothing shops, and did not look particularly impressive, but there was a sign outside that read 'Custom-made clothes for sale! Wove on the spot with magic!'

"I guess that's where we're going then." Shirou said.

* * *

Shirou and Lancelot were outside the changing rooms, waiting for Saber to change into her swimming apparel.

The clothing shop they went to was actually cosy rather than cramped, despite its size. The fairy shop attendants guided them to respective booths, where with their help, they decided on swimsuit designs. In a matter of minutes, the swimsuits were created and packed in bags, Lancelot had paid the cashier in enchanted gold coins they didn't knew he had, and they exited the shop, somewhat happy about their choices.

They had then went to the changing rooms in the mall. On the way, Shirou asked Saber about the swimsuit she chose. She had only smiled cryptically. "You'll see," was all he got from her.

Now, waiting outside the changing rooms, he was filled with curiosity. He had never seen Saber in a swimsuit before. How would she appear in one? Try as he might, Saber was too different from the typical swimsuit models for him to visualise her in one.

He turned to Lancelot. They were both dressed in shorts, Shirou opting for a pair of reddish orange ones that suited his hair, and Lancelot going with a purple pair that was identical to his hair colour. Although it showed how boring both their fashion senses were, in comparison to himself, Lancelot's revealed upper body showed so much well-toned muscles that Shirou regretted not purchasing a swim top.

"Did you see Saber in a swimsuit before?" He knew it was a redundant question, but he felt he had to ask something to break the silence.

"No," came Lancelot's obvious answer. "My king–" His words trailed off and he instantly fixed his gaze entirely on Shirou, who found it very disconcerting. He wondered why. Was it perhaps…

"Hello, Lancelot, Shirou," Saber's voice came from his side. "Sorry to keep you guys waiting, but I'm finally done."

Shirou's head turned. His eyes widened. And his mind blanked out.

Shirou had expected Saber to go in a one-piece swimsuit, being the conservative person she was. However, she was dressed in a very revealing bikini. One that was light blue, had sparkles that dazzled his eyes, blue ribbons and showed way, way too much of her skin.

"How is this?" She did a turn, displaying even more of her pearly white skin. Or perhaps it was the sparkles that shone even brighter. His eyes might have been bulging out of their sockets by now, despite the brightness. Lancelot's gaze was off him, and now fixed on the ceiling. "I had a dream that we went to a pool together, and you seemed quite happy when I brought a two-piece swimsuit. I tried to choose the same design I wore back then, but the shopkeeper advised me to change the colour from white to light blue, and add sparkles to it." She frowned slightly at his expression. "Is this fine?"

"Yes," His trance was broken, and he managed an answer. "I think you look beautiful in this. In fact, I think light blue suits you even better than white would have."

"Really, Shirou." She beamed. "If you are happy with this, I am too." She turned to Lancelot quizzically. "Lancelot?"

"I–I think it suits you very well, my king." Lancelot was still staring fixedly at the ceiling.

"Wonderful. All right then, let's be off." Saber reached for Shirou's hand. Together, they set off for the beach again, Lancelot walking behind them with a dazed look in his eyes. Shirou supposed it does take time to get used to a feminine Saber, when one has only known the king Saber for his whole life.

* * *

The party of three returned to the beach again, this time properly attired for the place. "Where do you want to go now?" Saber asked.

Shirou believed it would be best to start things off with swimming, and proposed that very idea. Saber accepted it, despite stating that she hadn't really swam before. He suggested that he and Lancelot could teach her how to, and so, they entered the sea waters.

Later, seeing Saber execute the front crawl perfectly, he wondered why he had offered to teach her swimming at all.

"There's nothing left for me to teach you," he complained. "How did you learn to swim so well?"

"You taught me," Saber admitted sheepishly. Seeing his confused face, she continued. "In that same dream where we went to the pool together, you taught me how to swim. I think I learned quite a lot then." She smiled at him.

Either Saber's dreams were very vivid, or she was extremely perceptive at learning things; he suspected it was a bit of both.

"Saber, since you can swim well, let's have a race to liven up the day. I want to know how well Lancelot can swim, too."

"Yes," came Saber's immediate reply. "In fact, I was worried you wouldn't suggest that at all."

"Why wouldn't I?" He asked, curious. Nothing could go wrong with a single race or two, right?

* * *

He tottered out of the sea, collapsing on the beach. Every muscle in his body was burning. Why had he forgotten how competitive Saber was?

"Shirou, are you all right?" He saw Saber's face above his, apology written all over it.

"Yes, I'll be all right. Just… need… to catch my breath." He managed. He was… he was not going to die from this. But he felt so, so close to.

It wasn't that he had won Saber. She was so fast that he had already lost to her in the first round. By right, the race should have stopped. But…

If Saber swam like a mermaid, with her grace and swiftness in water, Lancelot was an actual fish in its natural habitat. One could only see the trail of bubbles he left behind, at the impossible speeds he was swimming at. Lancelot's swimming skills were enchanted, he was sure of it. Otherwise, why would he have the title "Lancelot of the lake"?

Saber, naturally, couldn't stand losing, despite the difference in speed. She demanded a rematch. And another. And yet another. Despite her tenacity, Lancelot always remained slightly ahead of Saber. Shirou felt it was as if he were deliberately slowing down just so she would be even more determined to beat him.

Eventually, Saber's strong will emerged triumphant. She finally emerged victorious, but after so many rounds that even she was tired and hungry enough to call for a lunch break. As for him, who couldn't pull out of the pointless race because he "needed the practice to improve his swimming skills", however…

He felt hands underneath him, scooping him up into a cradle in strong, sturdy arms. "We should set off for a meal at once, my king. The race has exhausted all of us." He thought he detected a hint of pride in Lancelot's tone. Lancelot broke his thoughts, however, when he started walking, carrying him like a wee baby.

"Woah, woah! Lancelot, please set me down, I can walk by myself." He brushed the sand off his body when he was back on the ground, upright on his two feet.

And then, they went to have lunch.

* * *

After showering and drying off, they had lunch at the same mall that they bought their swimsuits in. Lancelot apparently had enough coins to satisfy even Saber's huge appetite, leading to them enjoying a very satisfying meal, all things considered. It seemed as if the magical creatures had much more receptive taste buds than humans did, with the quality of the food they prepared having no difficulty matching his. He had trouble imagining why Britain's food was as horrible as Saber described it to be, with the magical creatures then being so adept at cooking.

"Si-ou, I fink we jou'd come vere more offen." Saber spoke with her mouth full of food. She had also bought takeaways, munching on them while walking along.

"You like their food more than mine, don't you?" He couldn't help but tease her.

He enjoyed seeing her blush. "No," she protested. "It's just…"

A loud "Whee!" from above interrupted their conversation. They looked up. And stared. As a fairy child zoomed over their heads, screaming at the top of his lungs as he went down a transparent water slide.

"Shall we go there?" Shirou had never been on a water slide before, and he suspected that the other two hadn't either. And, rather than worrying about why something like this existed here in the first place, wouldn't it be better to embrace this perfect opportunity to try it out?

* * *

Lancelot was hesitant in going down the forty-meter water slide. "My king, Emiya Shirou, perhaps I could wait for you two below while you take the slide down?" Shirou didn't blame him. He had to admit, the near-vertical drop that led to a 360-degree loop was quite intimidating. But, wasn't it too late for him to back out now, lying on his back with his arms crossed at the top of the slide?

"Don't worry, Lancelot, it'll be safe and fun." Saber reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Now, go!" Lancelot didn't even get the chance to scream before he disappeared from view, zooming down the slide.

"Fufufu." Saber wasn't even trying to hide her amusement. _And he thought she was trying to be kind to Lancelot!_

"Shirou, do you want to go next?" There was an innocent smile on her face, as if nothing had just happened.

"Saber… I think you should go next." He said it out of a desire to save his own skin, but Saber surprisingly accepted it.

"Shirou, give me a push at the count of three." She was lying in the same position that Lancelot was, his hands on her shoulders this time. Touching her soft skin like this was very distracting, bringing too many stray thoughts that he rather not have right now. _Focus_ , he told himself. He needed to concentrate.

"One…" Saber closed her eyes and counted. He readied himself. "Two–AAAH!" He gave her a good shove that sent her down the slide as well. She deserved the same treatment that poor Lancelot got, having abused his trust in her like that.

He got into position at the top of the slide, mentally preparing himself. _It would be over in a flash_ , he reassured himself. He pushed himself over the edge…

And immediately wished he hadn't. As he sped down the near-vertical part of the slide, the lunch he ate pressed against the top of his gut, making him want to puke. The enclosed walls of the slide around him did nothing to break the illusion of falling since they were basically transparent. Before he realised it, he suddenly shot upwards, and the slide curved right until he suddenly shot out of the tube, into a pool at the bottom of the slide. He went so fast that he hadn't even registered going down the loop!

He paused to quell the urge to spill his lunch out, as well as to catch his breath, not having had the chance to breathe while travelling down the slide at high speed. Noticing Lancelot staring at him, he looked around but Saber was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Saber?" He asked, starting to get worried. _What if he messed up, and something happened to her?_

He noticed a faint, but noticeable grin on Lancelot's face. "What's–" It was then that he realised his mistake of not looking down.

The moment that a fully armoured Saber appeared from underwater and dragged him down into the depths below, he regretted ever trying to seek retribution for what happened to Lancelot. That man was truly an ingrate.

* * *

And so, after many volleyball matches with werewolves (they lost the first few but somehow won the many games afterward), the trip to the beach came to an end. The three visitors packed up, changed out and started heading back home.

Lancelot was walking back with Emiya Shirou and his king, whom he felt considerably more comfortable with after she changed into less revealing clothes. But while the couple were discussing the fun experiences they had then, trying to include him whenever they could, his mind was mostly somewhere else.

 _His king had changed._

Gone was the commanding presence on the battlefield, the ideal king that hid all her human emotions. What he saw now was a girl who was enjoying her life to the fullest, together with her soulmate.

That only made him respect Emiya Shirou even more. He was truly admirable for accomplishing a feat others had thought impossible. None of the knights had managed to change the king's way of thinking till the end, yet he, in a matter of weeks, had managed to awaken a side of her that everyone had thought died when she pulled out the sword of selection.

But why, why was he always destined to ruin the things that he sought to protect most? His adultery with his queen destroyed the royal marriage, triggered Britain's downfall and made his king's sacrifice of her humanity for naught. And now, his indecent feelings for his king… This was basically a replay of what happened at Camelot. Only now, he was threatening his king's newfound source of happiness. Was there no limit to this beast's depravity?

He did not notice that the others had fallen silent. Until he nearly walked into a stationary Emiya Shirou. He lifted his head, and realised why the two had stopped.

 _Ah. She's here._

At the entrance of the house, the other king stood, her arms rested atop the hilt of her pitch black sword, her glowing eyes observing the three.

* * *

 **Author's Note 2:**

I hope the length of this chapter (my second excuse) compensates for the delay (sorry again for that). This is my first time writing a single chapter of such length, so do feedback on what I can improve on (Was it too boring? Could you not understand? Etc.)

I hope most of you got the Fate/Hollow Ataraxia references (about the swimsuit choice and swimming experiences), if not please go watch the Saber pool scene there/again (it's interesting and quite hilarious).

On another note, it's going to get to the action-packed part very soon. I'm excited and terrified at the same time, since fanfictions about fate do place a lot of emphasis on fight scenes which I haven't really tried doing yet. I'll likely have to sit on it a while longer before publishing it too, since it has to be as good as possible to not turn you guys off.

So there!


	5. Chapter 5: Confrontation

**Author's Note 1:**

Guys, I'm very, very sorry for the two-month wait. In my defence, I was quite busy dealing with matters in real life, after which I needed some time to warm up before I felt ready to tackle this chapter. I guess at this rate there's not really much point in me telling you guys to expect a chapter every month now, is there?

I won't abandon this story though, no worries on that regard. It's just that there may be longer breaks between chapters at certain busy periods of the year. Please do bear with me on this .

By the way, I think I'll experiment with using names to mark when and to whose perspective the POV changes, so yeah, tell me if that helps improve the reading experience. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Confrontation**

 **Lancelot**

The setting sun illuminated the dark knight's features where she stood, revealing the similarities, as well as the differences, between the two kings' appearances. The armour the knight wore was black with streaks of red running through the steel, and the sword her arms were rested on was jet-black with a bright red pattern etched on it. Her dreadful, oppressive aura and her malevolent golden eyes that glowed with an intensity to rival the sun were enough to send a man to his knees in equal parts awe and fear.

"Impossible." His king was frozen in place, emerald eyes wide in disbelief. "How is she here?"

Emiya Shirou was even more perplexed by the uncanny resemblance. "Is that..."

"The Lady of the Lake bequeaths the Sword of Promised Victory to you once again, King Arthur. May it prove useful in the battle ahead." Reaching into a ripple in space, he drew out the prominent sword that was most symbolic of Arturia's rule in times long gone, and passed it to her. He then armed himself by pulling Arondight, his favoured sword, out of that same pocket of space.

"Lancelot... you knew... this would happen?" His king was shocked. As he initially was when he heard that such an alternate form of the king existed.

"The Lady warned me that Morgan was hatching a plot to undermine your safety." He said. "She sent me to protect you and Emiya Shirou from any and all threats."

"Are you done chattering?" The voice of the tainted knight was not particularly loud, but the words could still be heard clearly even with the distance that separated them.

His king broke the momentary silence that followed. "Why are you here? And what do you want?"

Her other self smiled. "Regarding the first question, I do not know," her eyes were temporarily closed, giving them a brief reprieve from the golden orbs locked on them. "But as for the second question-" Her eyes reopened, and her smile faded. The cold, merciless gaze she directed at them revealed the answer shortly before she said it aloud.

"Your life, of course."

* * *

 **Arturia**

"Why?" She was confused. What reason did her other self seek to end her life for, even in this utopia they both managed to reach? Could they not tolerate each other's existence in this ideal world? More importantly, was killing her even possible in this paradise disconnected from all the troubles of the actual world, including death?

It earned a cynical snort of laughter. "You are not aware of such an obvious thing? How complacent you have become." The dark knight lifted her sword casually with a hand.

"The presence of both of us here is warping the nature of this land, and beginning to destroy it." She began walking, closing the distance between them at an almost leisurely pace.

"Prepare yourself. Or not. It doesn't matter. Either way, you will die."

"Wait!"

Her other self paused, turning her head to face the redhead who called out to her.

"What do you want? I will be willing to spare your lives, so long as you do not oppose me." She fixed her gaze on Shirou, then on Lancelot.

"Like hell we would!" Those words shocked Arturia, but were heart-warming at the same time. That stubbornness was just like him.

"I expected as much from you. If you wish to die here, so be it." Her other self charged her weapon with magical energy, causing black flames to dance along the sword she wielded.

"You wish to challenge all three of us?" Lancelot was as incredulous as she was. Was her other self truly that powerful?

"I only wish to duel one person." The eyes of her other self were fixed on her. "But, if you have forsaken your chivalry, feel free to come at me with your numbers. I will strike you all down without mercy."

She made up her mind. Shirou and Lancelot could not come to harm because of her. If she accepted the duel, whatever the outcome, they will remain unharmed. "I acc–"

"I accept." Shirou cut her to the chase. "But you will be facing me first."

"Very well. If you wish to die pointlessly, brief moments before she does."

"Shirou!" She was on the verge of panicking. "You cannot hope to fight her! She's too strong for you!" If he got killed now, she… she…

"Saber." He was facing her. Bending down to cup her face in his hands, he smiled. A gentle smile, one that made her forget her worries just for an instant. "Trust me on this. I won't lose this battle, I promise." There was a look of quiet confidence in his eyes. And then his lips captured hers in a soft kiss.

Her breathing paused, and her mind went blank. Her train of thought completely broken in the tenderness of the kiss, she didn't even notice when his lips finally separated from hers.

By the time she snapped out of her trance and remembered the situation at hand, he was already out of reach.

* * *

 **Shirou**

He was in a familiar world.

Swords littered the barren earth as far as the eye could see, and even further beyond that. He knew the numbers were infinite.

Giant cogs were turning in the distant horizon, but they were beginning to come to a slow, grinding halt. They were breaking down, just like their owner was.

He stared up at the orange sky. The end was near. Had he made enough of a difference in the lives of others? Had he truly managed to become a hero of justice? Or were his actions too insignificant, his ideals too distant to actualize?

Something changed. It was almost imperceptible in the vastness of the world around him, but he noticed it still. The whiff of fresh green grass, of fragrant newly-opened flowers, of a peaceful meadow that was left undisturbed for a long, long time.

Muscles he didn't even know were tensed suddenly relaxed. How long had it been since he last felt so tranquil?

The refreshing scent surprised him with long-forgotten memories. Of someone he fell in love with, many years ago. Of the time they spent together, the battle they fought together. And of their parting at the end of it all.

Had she managed to find peace? He believed so. Her smile right before she disappeared made him feel confident of that.

Where was she now? Irrational as it may be, some part of him knew she was still alive.

Was she waiting for him, wherever she was? If so, it must have been an eternity for her.

All of a sudden, he felt an urge to drop his empty quest. For a much more selfish one, to find the girl he loved. He wanted to see the warm look in her eyes all over again, to feel once again what he felt for her, all those years ago.

But he knew it was even more unlikely for him to succeed in doing so. And he could not stray from his current path, not if he didn't want to break down like the worn-out machine he was. Not until the very end of his life.

He was already at the final stretch of his journey, however.

And after that… And after that…

Could such a miracle actually happen?

* * *

He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts. There was no point reminiscing about memories from his past life. All that mattered was what he had with her in the present. This life together which they both earned through their struggles. And if her look-alike had decided to threaten it along with her life, he would–!

His bow materialized in his hands. His opponent narrowed her eyes, a black mist of mana condensing around her. And the duel began.

He loosed three arrows. Two on either side to lock her in a straight line towards him, and the third aimed straight down that path. His opponent ignored all three, the third arrow simply reflected off the dense black fog surrounding her.

His opponent used her momentum to her advantage, managing to close the distance between them before he could prepare another volley of arrows. Her initial sword thrust was caught by his bow and redirected away from him. He was forced to discard his bow, however, with her following series of aggressive attacks, switching to Kanshou and Bakuya as a means to temporarily defend himself. Each of her attacks was strong enough to shatter Kanshou and Bakuya, but he was always ready with another pair before her next strike.

The close-quarters fight was almost impossible to track; their weapons were moving at ridiculous speeds. He had no room to attack, however, concentrating only on defending himself. His opponent was slightly slower than Saber, but her defence was likely strong, especially with the mana fog around her. If he went for a potential opening, chances were that he would be sliced open in two while she received minor damage from him.

He felt a pressure on his circuits, working past their limits to provide the vast quantity of swords he protected himself with. He needed to gain some distance quickly, before they started breaking down!

His next pair of Kanshou and Bakuya projected, programmed to explode, were thrown directly at his opponent, him using the opportunity to execute a backflip to safety. She was unaffected by the explosions, the fog absorbing most of the impact; but he intended them to be a distraction anyway.

His opponent was fast to act, charging out at him almost immediately after the explosion. But he was still slightly faster, likely due to his lack of armour. So he made the wisest choice available to him: to run.

He dashed past her towards the house, away from the other two with him. She followed, mere steps behind. It was obvious that she could not afford to let him have the long-range battle he preferred; it would then be a matter of time before his projectile weapons dispersed the mana fog around her long enough for him to score a serious hit on her.

While he vaulted over the walls around the perimeter, she charged through the front doors, crashing through them like they didn't exist. The intruder alarm was set off, which he found to be mildly annoying in this case. Why had he bothered to set it up in the first place, if the only use it had was this?

Still, he had the lead on her, and this was his territory. His home.

He raced through the corridors of the main building, trying to increase the distance between them further. It wasn't effective. She was crashing through the walls of his home to compensate for her lack of speed, but she seemed to know where the corridors led to. It was clear she knew the layout of the house as well. Was she really–?

While running, he shot an arrow up into the ceiling ahead. It managed to create a hole leading to the rooftop that was wide enough for him to fit through. When he was under it, he jumped.

His body turned in mid-air, an explosive arrow nocked on his bow. As expected, his opponent was already crouched and preparing to jump after him. He released the arrow just as she jumped.

The explosion rocked the house under him as he landed on the rooftop. He did not bother checking on his opponent, however. He knew that the most she would suffer was a slight delay. Sprinting, he managed to leap to the walls of the house just as his opponent emerged from the hole in the rooftop.

Another jump, and he was at a reasonable distance away from his house. His opponent was running on the rooftop, preparing to jump after him. But she wasn't fast enough.

There was another reason why he ran towards his house, after all. He hadn't just intended to keep Saber and Lancelot far from the actual fight.

He flipped the detonator switch in his mind. And the house, the projected "weapon", exploded. His opponent was in mid-air, approaching the walls, when she was swallowed by the raging flames of the blast.

* * *

Kanshou and Bakuya appeared in his hands. Preparing himself, he waited for his opponent.

As expected, she emerged from the smoking crater that was his house just moments before. The mist around her had almost completely disappeared, her blood flowing freely down armour that had been cracked at several points. She stumbled, but managed to steady herself by using her sword as a pillar of support. Her weight heavily rested on the sword, she was still desperately struggling to stand properly.

Why did that scene look so familiar?

A few seconds of distraction was all it took. Cracks on the armour began to repair themselves. The bleeding on many of her wounds began to slow to a trickle. She straightened herself, golden eyes staring at him with undisguised irritation.

He had to act before the mist came back–!

 _Spirit and technique, flawless and firm._

He threw Kanshou and Bakuya from both sides, the yin- and yang-swords converging on her neck in a deadly, circular arc.

After all, he could not take any chances. His opponent was undeniably strong. Without using his fatal attack, even without her shield of mana, she would still easily triumph over him.

Both swords were deflected. The speed at which his opponent had to deflect both blades with her two-handed sword weakened her strikes just enough for the swords not to break upon contact with her sword.

 _Strength pierces the mountains._

Her eyes widened in surprise when she sensed the surprise attack from behind, while he charged at her from the front.

The previous Bakuya, attracted to the Kanshou in his hand.

Such was the nature of the swords. The principle behind the attack he came up with to get him through numerous battles against absurdly strong opponents.

She did not disappoint, even in the state she was. She first shattered the weakened Bakuya coming in from behind, then swung her sword to meet the incoming Kanshou. In the head-on clash of weapons, the Kanshou in his hand broke.

Yet that wasn't the end of his attack.

 _Sword splits the water._

There was another Bakuya in his other hand. And the first Kanshou she didn't manage to break was also rapidly approaching her back.

Her skills with the sword had to be admired though. Even after dealing with the previous attack, she still managed to dodge the Kanshou from behind, and block the frontal slash from Bakuya. Both swords disintegrating after being used, he had temporarily ran out of swords.

Or had he?

 _Fame reaching the Imperial Villa._

Every monster had their limit. His opponent, as every monster before her, had reached hers after avoiding the simultaneous attack from four swords. She had left herself open, just for the briefest of moments, her sword too heavy to be swung back in time to block his next attack.

And thus…

"Trace, overedge."

Yet another pair of the two familiar weapons appeared in his hands. They were noticeably different from the two pairs he used just before, however. The two swords in his hands right now were longswords, losing their elaborate patterns in exchange for uneven, menacing steel shards that covered the half of the blades closer to the hilt.

 _We cannot embrace the heavens together._

A slash from both sides. That blow would be fatal, given the opening he created.

Despite that…

As his swords rushed in from both directions, something made him pause.

His opponent had an outstretched arm in front of her, pointing directly at him.

How–?

He was trying to pull his swords back to shield himself when magical energy in the form of a black dragon's head sped out of her gauntlet, its maw wide open as if in anticipation.

* * *

 **Saber Alter**

He was fast, but not fast enough to defend himself. Caught by the full impact of the blow, despite the weakened force behind the rushed attack, Shirou was tossed back and landed in an ungainly heap of blood, innards and gore.

She knew. Somehow, she knew about the technique he just used.

Otherwise, with her dulled instincts, how could she have found a way to survive that flawlessly performed attack?

She had instantly released one hand off her sword after dealing with his fourth blade, her body anticipating the next attack before her mind did. It was as if she had faced the attack before. When?

Her mind turned fuzzy. She could not find, nor retrieve that particular memory.

She supposed it didn't really matter now, however.

She had won the duel, however close it may have been, however unexpected the manner in which she had won.

She started walking towards him. It was time to end the duel. She felt the urge to kill him, not only to conclude the duel, but also to end the love her other self shared with him. It really grated on her nerves, especially when she saw the kiss.

"Stop!" A familiar voice. Her other self's.

She turned her head to see the two who had just arrived at the scene. How irritating. Did they not know that such a duel had to end with the death of the loser?

No matter. She continued walking.

"I will fight you! So please, let him live!" She found the hysterical note in her other self's voice comical.

But it was an interesting proposition. She had little chances in triumphing over Lancelot in another battle, especially in her current state. The title of "the strongest knight" he had was not earned by chance.

"Very well." She stood still, conserving her remaining magical energy and drawing in more from her surroundings. The fog of mana began to reform around her. Her mana reserves were mostly used up during the last fight, and if they were depleted in the middle of this next battle, she would be at a severe disadvantage.

"My king, let me…" Lancelot placed a hand on the shoulder of her other self, trying to dissuade her from endangering her life. But that hand was brushed away.

With hands gripped tightly around the holy sword she wielded, her other self approached her cautiously, her silver armor materializing around her.

When all that separated them was a short distance traversable in a split second, her weak self sprung. Sword raised high, a shout on her lips, containing all the self-righteousness that she hated most.

She couldn't help but smile, though. It was still a sight to behold.

She brought her sword up at the last moment to meet the downward swing of her other self's sword. They were locked in that pose for the briefest of moments, before she charged mana into her sword and forced her other self backwards. Her other self skidded across the grass, her boots gouging out long patches of grass as she tried to stop herself. The grimace on her other self's face confirmed the disparity in strength between the two.

She took advantage of that.

Sparks flew where the radiant sword met the dark sword, her other self struggling to block an unending chain of mana-empowered blows. She knew she had to go on the offensive, overpowering her other self with strong attacks to prevent the fight from being dragged on for too long. Her higher rates of mana consumption would be detrimental to her in a longer fight.

Also, striking at her other self repeatedly was satisfying. It somehow proved to be an effective outlet for all the disappointment, the frustration she felt when thinking of that weak, naïve form of hers.

What a pity it was, that it would end soon with the death of that self.

Forced to fend off one heavy blow after another, her other self was starting to falter, the guards her other self executed becoming increasingly desperate. She redirected more magical energy from defence into offence, confident that she would win in the next series of attacks.

That arrogance ended up punishing her instead.

Somehow, she had forgotten about Shirou. Having forced her other self to lose so much ground during her assault, she had moved forward too far and now had her back completely exposed to him.

She had also failed to notice that he was still conscious, and despite having taken serious damage, was still willing to fight, tenacious as he was.

That was why, as the one blade he managed to project sailed towards her back, the only warning she had of it was in her other self's eyes.

The blade sunk into her back muscles, the sudden jolt of excruciating pain causing her to pause in mid-attack. Her other self did not waste the immediate opportunity, stepping into her guard with a quick thrust to the heart that would have been fatal if it landed.

It didn't.

A sphere of concentrated black energy rushed out from her body, throwing her other self far out of attack range. Her other self was mostly unscathed, protecting herself from the worst of the blast due to her superior battle instincts. Yet the blast she barely managed to pull off had preserved her own life, and bought her some valuable time.

She felt the blade in her back disintegrate, her flesh beginning to knit together once again. She turned to Shirou, watching him clutch at his mangled innards. A quick survey convinced her that him making further attempts at projection anytime soon would likely result in him dying first.

She did not think he would try to prove otherwise, but even if he did, she would not make the mistake of leaving herself completely open to such an attack again.

"Shirou!" She heard her other self yell out. What a fool. She should have pressed the attack when she had the initiative, not waste her time worrying about such things.

She would conclude the battle at this distance, then.

She began to channel mana into her sword. The world around her seemed to turn a shade darker, her sword also draining mana from its surroundings.

She saw her other self widen her eyes. Yes, due to her foolishness, she could not reach her before she released the full power of her weapon.

And, the only way her other self had to counter this was to unleash the power of Excalibur as well. Knowing full well that Shirou was behind her.

She couldn't stop the savage smile from forming on her face.

" **EXCALIBUR–"**

" **EX–"** Her other self raised her sword. Did she somehow hope that the two destructive powers would cancel each other out? That was unrealistic. But, just in case…

"– **MORGAN!"** She held nothing back.

"– **CALIBUR!"** Were there tears in her other self's eyes?

The two pillars of devastating power met.

* * *

 **Lancelot**

The two pillars of devastating power met in the middle, one a pillar of light, the other a pillar of darkness.

Yet, although the pillar of light initially advanced forward, it inexplicably changed course and began to move backward. Past the middle point, retreating slowly, all the way back to its owner.

He watched in disbelief as his king began to lose the battle. Seeing the strongest holy sword fail like that, even if it was to another version of itself, was…

He cleared his mind. He had to save his king. Now!

He dived towards her. By a miraculous stroke of luck, he managed to reach her just before the pillar of darkness did. Tackling his king onto the ground, he rolled with her in his arms as fast as they could. His king did not get hit by the blast when it came, and only part of the armour on his back was liquefied, black droplets of scalding metal rolling down his back.

He still had questions on his mind, however.

Did she hold back because Emiya Shirou was behind her other self?

Was the use of the holy sword affected by the inner conflict she had between staying alive and not killing Emiya Shirou?

Or was the other version of the sword simply more powerful than the one the lady gave King Arthur?

"Lancelot." The voice filled with rage interrupted his thoughts. "You dare to interfere?"

He stood up. Arondight flew to him from across the wide chasm created by the pillar of darkness.

"Sorry. I have to keep them safe." The apology felt wrong, but he felt the need to say it nonetheless.

He turned to his king, lying unconscious where she stopped rolling. Did she pour all her energy into the weapon when the battle turned against her?

At least in such a state, she would not disagree with what he was about to do.

He charged head-on at the black knight. To Emiya Shirou, he yelled, "Go! Get her out of here! Find the Lady of the Lake!"

The subject in question was already able to stand, although barely. His wound had already healed to a point where they were no longer life-threatening. He did not have the time to ponder how that was possible, however.

"YOU–!" The tainted knight was furious. But he was already upon her, and she was forced to defend herself.

Emiya Shirou broke into a hobbling run. Would he be able to carry his unconscious king away from this place?

Lancelot sincerely hoped that he would at least be able to keep the enraged black knight occupied long enough for them to successfully escape from her.

* * *

 **Author's Note 2:**

Now, imagine if the projected blade that struck her was Rule Breaker. The story would deviate pretty far from what I have in mind, so I didn't make that happen here, but…

Wouldn't that be a pretty interesting story idea as well?

As usual, if you feel something can be improved, especially with the fight scenes above, please tell me. I know really little about fighting choreography, so any advice in that area would be quite helpful.

Also, I seriously feel really annoyed by the repeated use of "other self" as a pronoun. Hope that didn't turn you off too much, but I couldn't really come up with a better alternative. Any recommendations on how to deal with this identity crisis?

All in all, I hope the wait was worth it, and thanks for your kind patience all this while!


	6. Chapter 6: Memories

**Author's Note:**

All I have to say here is, if possible, go play some emotional music. (Hopefully, it will mask over any mistakes I will make.) Now, go on, start reading!

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Memories**

 **Lancelot**

It was the day on which he was to be knighted by the king of Britain.

He walked slowly toward the throne, across the long, red carpet stretched across the center of the throne room, surrounded on both sides by the many knights of King Arthur. His dark blue cape fluttered behind his gleaming white armour as a gentle breeze passed through the hall.

Standing before the throne, he got on one knee, and then the other as well, before the king.

"Lancelot du Lac, son of King Ban of Benwick, raised by the Lady of the Lake." His name was read. "Do you swear to serve your king and country with body, heart and soul?"

"Yes."

"Do you swear to uphold the code of chivalry at all times?"

"Yes."

And the process was repeated for the various vows he was to make as a knight of the Round Table.

"Do you swear to only be gentle and courteous to all ladies?" The last vow.

"Yes."

And his king moved from his throne.

His head bent down, he only felt a slight pressure as the sword of selection tapped his right shoulder, and then his left.

"Arise, Sir Lancelot, my dear knight."

As he stared up at his new king, clouds covering the sun parted, and light shone through the windows into the hall, illuminating both himself, and the king he was about to serve.

His breath paused as he stared at his king's smiling face. The unnatural beauty of the boy-king's face was displayed even more clearly with the sun's rays landing on it. Could he be...?

"Sir Lancelot? Get up, there is much to do." His king offered him a hand. A dainty hand that could be called feminine, yet also roughened and callused by the grip of a blade.

He accepted the hand, and pulled himself up.

And then he caught sight of the queen, standing a little behind his king.

* * *

He slipped up in his attack, having to pull his sword back immediately to block a blow strong enough to cut him in two.

Fighting like this should have been an simple task. His opponent was weakened, injured, and had just used her strongest ability. Fighting at full strength, he should have triumphed with ease.

So, why was he getting distracted with memories of the past?

He gritted his teeth, waiting for an opening in the strikes that followed. Arondight was strong enough to be able to trade blows with the version of Excalibur the dark knight had, but his opponent's mana-empowered strength made it such that he would be overpowered in a clash of swords.

He could still work around that, however.

* * *

"Sir Lancelot!"

He was passing by the castle courtyard, on his way to the stables to bring his steed out for a ride. The kingdom was flourishing, and enemies to the throne were sparse, so he had to exercise his horse regularly to keep it fit. Just in case.

"Come! We need a spar!" His king had just won a spar against another knight in the open space of the courtyard. His face was flushed, and sweat covered his whole body, but the look in his eyes suggested he wasn't tired at all.

"I would not dare–"

"Nonsense. I am proposing a mere spar, with wooden weapons if you are more comfortable using them. I doubt even Aggy will take issue with that."

"But…"

Alas, his king got what he wanted, and in a little while he was facing his king. A wooden sword was in his hand instead of Arondight, but he did not mind the unfamiliarity of the wooden sword.

By this time, a sizeable crowd had formed along the perimeter of the courtyard, eager to see how King Arthur would fare against his strongest knight. Queen Guinevere was there too, a worried expression on her face as she watched the scene.

The duel started, and his king raced forward with a powerful strike, clearly intended to disarm him or win the battle right away.

He redirected his king's wooden sword with two small, quick slashes, and before his king could pull back his sword, his wooden sword was already resting against his king's exposed neck.

His king's eyes widened. "Again!"

This time, his king went with an even more powerful attack, gambling on the fact that it would not be deflected easily like before.

It succeeded in making him redirect the blow with three strikes rather than two, and with his king temporarily losing his balance as he got carried too far forward by the momentum of the strong attack, it was easy to bring his sword up to his king's neck once again.

"Again!"

His king was on the defensive now, his sword held in a double-handed grip in front of him. Perhaps he thought that if he did not attack and leave an opening that could be exploited, he himself would have no choice but to attack and in turn leave himself open to a counterattack?

He obliged his king by making the first move. Closing the distance between them, he made the first strike.

It was a feint.

While his king's sword moved to parry his, his sword shot back and came at his king's sword in a different direction. Two swift strikes were all he needed to nudge the wooden sword out of his king's hand. The tip of his sword touched the breastplate of his king, signaling the end of the round.

It was then that Agravain finally arrived. "My liege, you have other matters to attend. Do not waste your precious time on a pointless fight, when the outcome will not change no matter how many times you try." Almost unceremoniously, he began directing the embarrassed king back to the hall.

Seeing the source of entertainment come to an end, the crowd began to disperse. But as his king entered the scattering crowd, his head turned back to face him.

"Lancelot! How did you beat me so easily?" His king called out.

Before he could come up with an answer, his king had already disappeared amid the throng of people heading back into the castle.

But the answer was clear when he directed his thoughts to figure it out.

The power of the attacks is secondary to their number and speed. He used only the minimum power needed for the attacks, and channeled the rest of his energy into making his attacks as many and as quick as possible.

 _After all, if you are attacking a dragon, your attacks need only be strong enough to pierce the scales of said dragon._

* * *

His current opponent was powerful. More powerful than his king back then.

But that power came at the cost of flexibility. Mobility.

That could be the key weakness that would win him the battle, if he utilised it to his advantage.

The next strike came, a black arc aimed for his neck.

The strike was deceptive, in that her sword was ready to turn downwards at his slightest movement. If he tried to duck, her sword would follow him, slicing through his neck and chest in a diagonal arc despite his attempt to avoid it.

But his sword was faster.

Arondight came up in time to meet her sword, held at an angle such that as her sword tried to move, it also slid downwards along his sword.

He didn't settle with just that, however.

Using her sword as a pivot, he used Arondight to flip over it. He had counted on the immense strength of his opponent, knowing that such a stunt was only possible if the grip the dark knight had on her sword was akin to being made of steel.

He completed the flip, Arondight coming up above his head. He turned to face his opponent.

There was shock in her eyes, as she realised her mistake, and the wide opening she created for herself with her sword still on her other side.

He charged Arondight with magical energy, and it glowed with a familiar blue light, the light off the shining surface of a lake at midday.

* * *

It was after Sir Tristan departed from Camelot.

His king began spending more time brooding in the throne room alone. At gatherings with his knights, the joviality in his attitude was forced, and the anguish in his eyes was barely concealed.

It was also when his queen revealed the secret of his king.

He was standing outside the throne room, when he saw the figure of his king on his–no, her–throne.

Her lifeless green eyes met his.

He felt compelled to enter, and did as such, getting on a knee in front of his king.

"Rise, Lancelot." Her voice was unnaturally subdued. "There is no need for such formalities between you and me."

He got up, and asked the obvious question on his mind.

"What is troubling you, my king?"

She sighed. "My friend, you've always been this observant, haven't you?"

There was a pause, then his king continued.

"The people hate me. Even while I have performed the duties of the king to the best of my abilities, freeing Britain from Rome's rule, repelling the invaders from our shores, bringing prosperity to Britain, they see me as inhuman. Inhuman, and thus, unfit to rule them." Her fists were clenched atop the armrests of the throne she sat upon.

"Would the country have been happier if I was a tyrant the likes of Vortigern instead? Would they have despised me, hated me, but felt comfortable knowing I was yet another flawed human like they were?"

"I'm sorry, Sir Lancelot, for putting you through this tirade." The mask of the king was back in place. "You may leave now, and I trust that you won't speak about this with anyone else."

Her head was lowered, and she remained in that position until he left.

* * *

His sword came down. As it did, he knew that it would be a fatal blow.

The downward slash would be from shoulder to hip; considering the magical energy that Arondight would release upon cutting into her body, even if she did not die immediately, the severity of the wound she would receive would be impossible to recover from.

However, the expression on her face made him freeze.

The sword she had was already pulled back and coming in a forward thrust that was too late to reach him, and her loss was all but guaranteed. Yet, there was a resigned smile on her face, one that brought back memories of the smile his king had when she offered him a hand, at his knighting ceremony a long time ago. The slight upturn of her lips, the softening of her eyes; those were identical to back then.

Just for a moment, two images overlapped, and he found himself staring at his king again, his sword about to cleave her in two.

His oath of loyalty to his king overrode all other conscious thoughts he had. _To save his king from himself._ That was the top priority.

Arondight was redirected at a sharp angle away from her, the light of the lake released in a blue arc of light that narrowly missed her.

But the thrust of her sword into his stomach did not miss.

* * *

They stood still in that position, Arondight held limply at his side, her sword buried in his gut. He was unfamiliar with the feeling of cold steel in his body; he had never been on the receiving end of such a fatal thrust before. Or maybe he was; didn't his king kill him before in a war for the Holy Grail?

"You missed." Her voice was flat.

"Yes." Blood welled up in his mouth, but he swallowed it in. It was not very effective; in moments, blood was leaking out of the corners of his mouth.

"Why?"

He paused for a moment, wondering how to express his thoughts.

"You…" He paused to turn his head away, coughing out blood that entered his airway.

"You and her are too alike for the similarities to be ignored," he finally managed. "I misjudged that."

The only response he got was the narrowing of the dark knight's golden eyes.

She pulled out her sword, and though it didn't hurt as much as when she sunk it in, the frigid, wintry air that rushed in made the sensation unbearable. As she turned to leave, he was tempted to ask her to finish him off.

He wouldn't have minded a quick, merciful death this time. His actual death in hermitage was so prolonged that it came as a relief at the end.

He swayed on his feet, then collapsed as his legs gave out under him. He would have liked to have remained standing until she was out of sight; it was a pity he wasn't strong enough.

However, by tilting his head sideways while lying atop the soft grass, he could still see the setting sun in the distance, the vibrant hues of red decorating the sky for the last time before night came.

It reminded him of his childhood days; oftentimes, he would be asked to return home at dusk, yet ended up spending the whole time watching the spectacular sunsets, and their reflections on the surface of the lake near his home.

The nostalgia he felt, it…

He realised he was feeling really, really tired. He wanted to stop thinking.

He wanted to rest.

He closed his eyes, prepared to slip into the cold, unfeeling embrace of death once again.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

And this is the end of the first "arc", the introductory arc. I would have personally preferred it to be a little longer, to flesh out these main characters a bit more, but oh well.

Look forward to original characters, and much better (attempts at) world-building in the following chapters.

If you liked the story so far, please drop a comment on what you liked, would like to see, or would like me to improve on. It will likely help me out a lot, so don't hold back on your comments!

Bad news is, I'll also be using this opportunity to take a month-long hiatus before I start working on the next chapter. (I have a long series of tests coming up next month, and I also need some time to think a bit more about the story's direction without worrying about deadlines.) Estimated Time Arrival of the next chapter should be in about 2 months, hopefully.

Anyway, I just finished watching Your Lie In April (YLIA), and it was so, so beautiful (and emotionally impactful). So beautiful that it's suddenly a recommended anime to watch in this fanfic about a different story. YLIA wraps itself up well and leaves little room for further expansion, so I probably will just leave it as is and not write anything about it, as much as I am tempted to try to do so.

This section seems more like a blog at this point, but whatever. I don't really use social media as a platform to express myself anyways, so this basically becomes the place where I comment about things (and hope you read it).

Thank you all for reading, and hope to see you all at the next chapter!


	7. Chapter 7: Drifting

**Author's Note:**

Hello everyone, I'm so, so sorry for the long wait! (Hope you missed it.) Let's go!

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Drifting**

 **Shirou**

The two priestesses had found them near the forest entrance.

He had planned to use the cover that the forest provided to help conceal themselves if the dark knight came after them; as it was, they had barely made it into the forest before his legs started violently shaking under him. He had managed to rest Saber's unconscious body against a tree–he had been carrying her on his back–before his legs had given out completely from under him and he fell.

The priestesses had appeared at the edge of his vision not long afterwards. They were clad in robes that rippled around their figures, their heads hidden by hoods and their faces hidden by veils, all of which were dyed the deep blue of the sea. Their imposing presence, and the authoritative manner they carried themselves in, had left him little doubt about their identities.

The priestesses had said no words, but he had sensed that they held no ill will towards the two of them; as such, he had not resisted as the priestesses approached them.

One of the priestesses had cradled Saber in her arms easily, as if she was light as a baby; the other had motioned for him to follow her. _We will bring you to the Lady_ , she had told him. He did not know if she had actually spoke, or if her words had directly reached his mind. With the air of silence that cloaked as much of them as their robes did, he felt it was the latter.

He had tried to get to his feet, but his repeated, unsuccessful attempts at doing so were noticed by the priestess who had addressed him. She had pointed at him, had traced a shape in the air with the same finger, and the agonising pain that had wracked his body and prevented him from rising instantly dissipated.

He did as they wished. That, if not proof of their goodwill, was at least a display of power strong enough to not be taken lightly.

The priestesses headed further into the forest, and they found a stream, shallow enough that an impressive array of water-smoothed stones lay above the clear water surface, narrow enough that a person could cross it in just one leap. They followed it as it twisted and turned and eventually led to a much larger river, its surface glittering with the reflections of various stars in the night sky.

There was a small, wooden boat docked by the riverbank, not far from where they were. Saber was brought onto the boat, while he was ushered to a seat beside where she lay. One of the priestesses took her position at the head of the boat, the other at its tail, and the boat began its journey downstream, guided not by oars, but by the river current.

The riverbank they had departed from receded into an indistinct, dark blur as the boat was swept to the river's center. The boat, its other occupants and the surrounding water were the only things he could still see in the low lighting that the moon and the stars provided.

A light drizzle had also begun, needle-thin slivers of water descending from the heavens without warning. Unexpected as it was, he had found himself welcoming it. The rain droplets sent cool, tingling sensations wherever they touched his skin, a soothing change from the searing pain he had felt earlier.

The random, unsynchronised pattering of the raindrops, against the clothing and exposed skin of the people on the boat, against the wood that made up the boat itself, and against the water floating at the river's surface, had helped to mask the near-complete silence that seemed to stretch without end throughout their journey. Yet, the pleasant, calming sound had also ended up bringing his thoughts back to the battle they had just experienced.

A part of him had felt betrayed when the dream of a peaceful life with Saber had been shattered by the black knight's arrival, as though it had been a mere illusion all along. Granted, his life had not been the most fortunate, but he had embraced the ideal situation too readily, treating it as an undeserved but welcome reward for what he and Saber had done for each other. He had been completely unprepared for the fight against the black knight, his crushing defeat at her hands a natural result of that.

And as for the black knight who had bested him…

Her appearance was almost identical to that of Saber's, the only differences between them being the colours of their eyes, hair and skin. Their degree of similarity was so great, that he couldn't help but feel as if he was looking at a twisted reflection of Saber.

The sword she had wielded was also Excalibur. He did not know how the sword had ended up in that state, or how there could even be two forms of the same sword that belonged to different owners, but there was no mistaking it. The moment he had laid eyes on the sword, he had identified it to be the most powerful holy sword on the planet, despite its appearance being a far cry from the Excalibur that Saber wielded.

The knight's identity was still a complete mystery to him, however. She could have been one of the countless many who opposed King Arthur. She could have been a relative of Saber, given how alike they looked. She could even have been Mordred, King Arthur's supposed bastard "son" who led the final rebellion against the King, but who could also be female as Saber was. Though the legends had also mentioned Mordred had preferred a different sword…

There was also the possibility that the black knight was a hidden, twisted persona that Saber had, given the similarity of their appearances and swords. But how such a side of her had come into being, he did not know. He could not believe that Saber had ever appeared or behaved as the black knight did in the entirety of her rule, and was all but sure that Saber had shown no hints of such duality throughout the time they had spent together.

He turned to the person beside him. Saber remained almost perfectly still, the only exception being the gradual rising and falling of her chest as she drew in slow breaths, one after another.

Saber…

He suspected that she knew the black knight's identity. Her reaction to the black knight's appearance had implied that she had, at the very least, recognised the knight. But he did not believe that Saber had intentionally hid the black knight's existence from him; perhaps she had never expected the black knight to appear here, in Avalon.

More importantly, however, was that the black knight, whoever she was, sought to end Saber's life. And according to the black knight, there was no middle ground, no compromise they could reach to avoid bloodshed. If what she had said was correct, either Saber or the black knight herself had to die to save this world.

Saber would once again have to face the many regrets she had during her reign, and still be willing to accept her suitability as king, flawed as her rule had been. He trusted her to be able to do it, yet he could not help but worry for her nonetheless. Moreover, what they had to do was unreasonable to the point of being ridiculous. Knowing the absurd amounts of power that the black knight possessed, they then needed to find a way to match that power for the slightest chance of defeating the black knight.

They could very well be heading towards their doom; that much was obvious to him. But no matter how strong the black knight was, no matter how low their chances of defeating her, he would remain by Saber's side, never leaving her, giving her the help she desperately needed but never knew to ask for.

Because he had told her, in a war they had both participated in and won a long time ago, that she could rely on him to fight by her side.

And also because he loved her.

* * *

 **Author's Note 2:**

I did say that this chapter was supposed to be out "about 2 months" after the last, but this somehow ended up becoming "about three months" instead. Oops.

Some things did happen unexpectedly, as does happen all the time, and I had to deal with them. But my laziness also got the better of me for a while, which is also largely responsible for this late upload, and I'm genuinely sorry for that.

Also, this has kind of been a filler chapter (I wanted to avoid it, but I felt I still had to write it nonetheless). If you did mind that, I'm sorry.

Anyway, to compensate for all that, there will be another chapter, which you can head right to after this! Neither chapter is particularly lengthy, but I still hope you guys can enjoy them nonetheless.

Please feel free to drop a review, if you would like to. See you in the next chapter!


	8. Chapter 8: Guest

**Author's Note:**

Here you guys go, the next chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Guest**

 **Liann**

She wiped the small, square table beside the currently occupied bed until not even a smidgen of dust remained on the empty tabletop. She swept the floor of wooden tiles and dusted the shelf in the corner where she kept the vials in. She pushed the also-wooden shutters that covered the windows outwards, so light flooded the room and made everything become brighter.

Her home had to be in its best state when he woke up.

And, no, it was not that she didn't do the chores yesterday, or the day before, it was just…

Her face heated up, just a little.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She did not have much time left.

She went outside, and moved the two chairs on the front porch so they rested beside each other, both facing the clearing that separated the house from the forest. She raked up the dried, pale blue leaves that had drifted onto the clearing, collecting them in a near-filled sack that she placed by the porch. Then she went back in, checked that he was still sleeping comfortably, and left for the forest with her basket in hand.

Hunting for materials in the forest was a daunting task. The materials she wanted were already rare to begin with, not to mention that the other beings who dwelled there were also actively hunting for them. She needed ample amounts of luck, skill, and time for anything that resembled a successful haul.

* * *

The reddish hue of the dusk sky, visible even through the dense foliage overhead, signalled the end of her gathering. She promptly headed back, making sure to retrace her steps to avoid the slightest chance of losing her way. She walked across the clearing, stood on the porch, pushed the plain wooden door inward, and entered her all-too-familiar home once again.

The first thing she did was to check on him. He was in her care, after all, and she had to ensure his well-being.

He was still sleeping. His facial muscles were tightened and his breathing was laboured, but his eyelids were shut, and did not flutter the way a half-awake person's eyelids would.

It seemed he would not be waking up today, either.

She decided to take a break then, and noticed how ragged she looked. But the weariness she felt was mostly non-physical. In fact, her dishevelled appearance was a small hint to how magically drained she was.

Keeping him alive had been a struggle unlike any she had faced before.

The curse on him was a vicious creature. Although it was following its own destructive nature, it was relentless in devouring him from the inside out, a flame that brought ruin to wherever it spread. He had almost met his end when she had found him, collapsed on the grass in the devastated land that had witnessed the first battle in Avalon.

All her efforts had barely been able to save his life. And she had only managed to force the curse to retreat to the wound. There, the charred flesh still smouldered and gave off a faint trail of purple smoke, a clear sign that the curse was far from gone. His recovery would be slow, and if she made any error in her treatment, the curse could easily escape her control to claim the life it so desperately wanted.

As had happened many times before, the thought of asking for help crossed her mind. Healing was never her expertise, and he would fare better in the hands of another more skilled at the arts of healing than she was.

She could approach the fairies, for one. She had done her best to maintain good relations with them–leaving behind gifts of her own whenever she took from the forest, avoiding the locations and objects they had marked as their property–and she doubted they would deny her request outright. She also knew there were many adept healers among them who were fully capable of nursing him back to good health.

But she knew the rule as well as they did – help always came at a price.

And the price for a life was usually another. That, she would not be able to give.

Unbidden, unwelcome, another person rose to the fore of her mind. She shoved that idea away as firmly as she could. She had resolved that she would not seek _her_ help, especially not for this matter.

She moved a stool beside the bed, and sat facing her guest. It was best that he was currently asleep, for she would be tending to the wound again.

She placed her hand above his wound and steadied her breathing. She found the curse. The black flame that raged in the confines of the makeshift prison she made for it, and tried its hardest to escape before it succumbed to her ministrations, fizzled and died.

Without so much as a pause to ready herself further, she resumed her treatment.


	9. Chapter 9: The lake

**Chapter 9: The lake**

 **Arturia**

The unfamiliar sight of Lady Vivian was what greeted her when she came to.

Hands reached out from her sleeping position among golden reeds that stretched tall above her eyes, propping herself up to meet the gaze of her long-time ally. Said ally remained still, her legs partly hidden under the water surface beyond the banks where the girl rested. The slight lowering of the Lady's eyelids over her round eyes, and the small upturn of her lips into a soft smile, were displays of her pleasure only shown in her expression.

"King of Knights. Thanks be to the world for your awakening." The melodious lilt in the Lady's barely-audible voice carried a tranquillity matched by the stillness of the lake she stood in.

"Lady, where are we?" She surveyed her surroundings. All around her, waters of a turquoise reflected in the Lady's eyes extended briefly before being concealed by a mist faintly tinged with yellow sunlight, that which engulfed the tiny, lonely islet of reeds, soil and tiny stone outcroppings.

"Within my domain, King of Knights. Your enemies will not be able to find you for some time." Her voice remained soft, a soothing aria.

The girl's eyes narrowed, widened, narrowed again. Her body tensed, her fingers pressed into reed stalks and soil alike. Her face averted from the Lady's, her eyes shifting downwards and to the side.

"The fault lies not with you, King of Knights." There was a touch of sympathy added to the Lady's words.

"No, it is mine." For it was indeed her fault. The cold-blooded tyrant came from within her. _That_ could have been a repressed side of her, a side of her that not even she herself knew, but the hatred and grief that birthed the vile knight were the very burdens she bore throughout her kingship.

A tightness in her chest made it difficult to breathe. She could not accept it. She could have ignored the revulsive existence when it was a distant possibility birthed in an unjust, twisted world, but not now, when she came to face this cruel mockery of her body, her sword, her dream. The thoughts brought a flame to her cheeks, to her eyes, a slight quiver in her body.

"… This matter will be resolved, King of Knights." The gentle delivery of words drew trails of warmth that slid down the sides of her face. Yet, the tension in her chest and shoulders had also subsided, and her breaths came more easily. She brought a hand up to dry her cheeks. It was undignified of a king to show this much weakness.

"Where is Shirou?" It was only then that she could muster the courage to voice the concern that had been residing within her the entire time.

"The boy is not here. He waits for you on the shore." The Lady's tone changed imperceptibly. The girl, though slightly puzzled, was also too relieved to think about inquiring further.

"And Lancelot…" _What of her other companion?_

"I cannot sense his presence." The Lady's words came slowly, tinged with a hint of resignation that also brought the girl's worst fears to the fore. A hush descended over the two, a moment that lasted longer within her mind than without.

"Other matters require my attention, King of Knights. I must leave." The Lady continued, composed as ever. "Do you have any further inquiries?"

The girl shook her head. She could already surmise what had happened after she was defeated by her corrupted self. She was saved. Shirou was saved. Lancelot, who had to have saved them, was not. Nothing else needed to be known. She simply did not want to be troubled by anything else.

In her silence, the Lady turned. Her long, voluminous ponytail, supported and framed by a red and gold visor that sat atop her hair, swivelled, as did the two long strands of silver on each side of her face. The red-and-white gown, adorned with shining plates of gold at the front and sleeves, shifted to show its reverse face to the girl.

"Farewell, King of Knights. Others will come for you shortly."

The Lady headed into the river, each step taken submerging more and more of herself in the water. She became a faint shadow in the mists, fading out of sight before the waters covered her shoulders and head.

The girl was left staring blankly into the mists, dazed by the slow exit of the fairy and the trail of ripples that spread leisurely behind her. Her fatigued eyes drifted shut with the gradual passing of time. Yet, the momentary flash of an image in her mind made them snap open. She breathed in sharply.

"Merlin…" She murmured.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Pardon me for the unannounced "hiatus". I kind of lost sight of where to bring this story, and procrastinated for a very long period of time (I also had a busy school year, which exacerbated the issue). To those who waited really hopefully for an update more than half a year, I'm deeply sorry.

I am also not going to post further updates till the end of the year; major examinations (with a capital M) are coming up. Again, another sorry from me.

[Note: if you did find the appearance description of Vivian familiar, that's because I referenced her appearance from a character description page in a fate fanon (if you dabble in the type moon fate fanon wiki content, there is a picture on a page for her in the Fate/Conqueror series). If you've never seen it before, you might want to check it out if you want, to get a better picture of what I'm trying to describe. Do be aware that her personality may not be following what was described on the page.]

As always, do leave a review if you have any feedback, queries or comments! Till next time!


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